The Great Apathy

You know what really tangles my kite strings? It’s a thing I’m calling the Great Apathy. The powers that be in my nation longer bother with trying to dress their lies in a modicum of truth. What’s worse, the public as a whole seems to have accepted this as perfectly normal.

Blatant and egregious falsehoods in media, politics, and advertising? Of course; why not? Please pass the sugar.

I cannot claim to be surprised. After all, I’ve read the Bible several times through and am well aware of the course this planet travels.

The coming of the lawless one is by the activity of Satan with all power and false signs and wonders, and with all wicked deception for those who are perishing, because they refused to love the truth and so be saved. Therefore God sends them a strong delusion, so that they may believe what is false, in order that all may be condemned who did not believe the truth but had pleasure in unrighteousness.

2 Thessalonians 2:9-12

Yet I also find it darkly humorous that my countrymen will feel smug enough to doubt we could ever fall under the sway of a tyrant the likes of Adolf Hitler or believe such obvious lies as Putin critic Alexei Navalny’s passing from “sudden death syndrome” in a Russian prison.

But then again…

I’m wondering what families they polled to discover this fine achievement. All the families I know are groaning under the cost of groceries, and no one is moving because they can’t even afford to downsize with the current cost of housing.

And that’s just ONE lie. There are so many others. I’ve seen ground beef labels with fine print stating, “beef flavor added,” a bag of oranges reassuring me the orange color was added, and bitten into apples only to see red dye staining the flesh of the fruit.

And don’t get me started about the lack of grammar and thoughtful communication.

Evidently, this dinner cut is owned by a stir fry?? That or someone in their marketing department doesn’t know the difference between a plural and a possessive noun.

Then there’s the entire alphabet soup mess of biological confusion. Don’t get me wrong. I feel truly and deeply grief-stricken for the people caught up in this princedom of lies, but I can’t claim to have zero anger towards those who propagate the chaos and confuse hurting people who are already suffering.

On one hand, we’re told there is a difference between biological sex and gender (which is honestly just Gnosticism in modern clothes), and on the other hand we can read how scientists discover “for the first time” how men’s and women’s brains work differently.

Of course, any married couple, preschool worker, or person who interacts with other persons in real-world settings on a daily basis could have told you this centuries ago. But for some reason, many of my countrymen have fallen under the spell of “science” – or more aptly “scientism” as a friend of mine calls it.

What I’m wondering is what happened to a people who took in data, ruminated on it, and acted according to their own values systems? Today’s average jill or joe seems to do nothing more than search social media or other online sources for the acceptable attitude of the day and adopt it. Data is increasingly difficult to come by, and lies increasingly dominate.

Then again, the current ruler of this world is a liar and the father of lies.

I’m just thankful this place isn’t my home but only the land of my sojourn. While I’m here, I hope to share the hope I have in Yeshua (Jesus) my Lord with everyone I can, convincing them to trade their fragile earthly citizenship for an eternal one in the Kingdom of God.

Friend, if you are also struggling with the ugly spread of deception you see pervading our society, dividing us into groups at war with ideologies neither group fully comprehends, I invite you on a journey. Go outside and take a walk in the fresh air. Marvel at the beauty of a budding tree or the flight of a bird. Then return, pick up a Bible, and read the greatest love story ever told, asking the Author of the story to help you both understand and believe it.

Then someday, we will have eternity to enjoy the goodness of God together as we relish our release from the bondage of deceit, decay, and death. But we don’t have to wait – we can be free of the great apathy now and engage in real-world pursuits rather than theoretical imbibing of Kool-Aid and red or blue pills.

Let the Creator of all that is untangle those knots in your kite strings and learn to fly free from the entanglement of sin and self. You won’t regret it.

A Chronology of Obedience

Reading through the Bible chronologically in a year or so lends a different perspective than taking deep dives into a specific book or passage. This is the – oh, I’d say maybe sixth time I’ve followed a chronological one-year plan, and each time the Lord has given me a few new pearls to string together. This year, I’ve been noting the chronology of obedience reiterated through the pages of the Text.

One of the big themes I saw repeated throughout Genesis and Exodus is that quite often, obedience to God precedes the miracle, sign, or blessing from God.

Take a look at these by-no-means comprehensive examples:

The Call of Noah | Genesis 6:9-9:22

Make yourself an ark of gopher wood … For behold, I will bring a flood of waters upon the earth to destroy all flesh in which is the breath of life under heaven… But I will establish my covenant with you, and you shall come into the ark, you, your sons, your wife, and your sons’ wives with you…

Genesis 6:14-18

Noah had to build the ark before the flood ever happened – in part because a large seaworthy vessel does little good if one begins construction during a catastrophic weather event. He and his family were not saved from the general destruction until after they obeyed what doubtless seemed to be a rather bizarre set of instructions.

The Call of Abram | Genesis 12

Now the Lord said to Abram, “Go from your country and your kindred and your father’s house to the land that I will show you. And I will make of you a great nation, and I will bless you and make your name great, so that you will be a blessing…

Genesis 12:1-2

Note that God did not provide Abram with a roadmap complete with a large red X marking the destination, but instead directed him to “the land that I will show you.” Imagine having that conversation with your wife! As a wife myself, I can state for the record that I might slightly doubt my husband’s sanity if he told me we were moving but we wouldn’t know where until we got there.

And the promised sign? God would make a great nation of him and make his name great. Becoming a “great nation” is not an event that tends to happen in one’s own lifetime, as it would take generations for one person’s progeny to number enough to be considered a nation. We can see clearly that Abram’s belief was not about personal gain but was instead God-focused.

There’s a lesson in this I’m taking to heart.

The Offering of Isaac | Genesis 22

He said, “Do not lay your hand on the boy or do anything to him, for now I know that you fear God, seeing you have not withheld your son, your only son, from me.” And Abraham lifted up his eyes and looked, and behold, behind him was a ram, caught in a thicket by his horns. And Abraham went and took the ram and offered it up as a burnt offering instead of his son. 

Genesis 22:12-13

Again, God didn’t provide the animal for the sacrifice until Abraham’s arm was poised to strike. Sometimes God’s provision comes in the very nick of time, even when our obedience seems to be more costly than we feel we are able to pay. Yet in reality, God Himself always shoulders the true burden.

This moment in history, like the others, deserves a deep dive of its own – far to much to cover in this overview. But can I at least comment that it wasn’t unusual for pagan gods to require child sacrifice? God’s dramatic display here showed that He would be the one to provide the sacrifice, foreshadowing the ultimate provision of His own Son of the promise for the greatest and most complete sacrifice humanity will ever know.

But back to our main point – Abraham’s obedience came before God’s miraculous provision. We stand at a point in history where the miraculous provision has already happened. So, why do we yet hesitate to obey? Food for thought.

The Whole Life of Joseph | Genesis 37, 39-46

Ok, that’s a lot to take in, so let’s narrow it down to Joseph’s trial with Potiphar’s wife, shall we?

“He is not greater in this house than I am, nor has he kept back anything from me except you, because you are his wife. How then can I do this great wickedness and sin against God?” And as she spoke to Joseph day after day, he would not listen to her, to lie beside her or to be with her.

Genesis 39:9-10

Here’s a case where the obedience to God actually brings the poor man into a greater amount of trouble. Because of his obedience to God and his refusal to be seduced by a powerful woman, Joseph spends time in jail.

Let me rephrase that: he spends time in jail for doing the right thing.

Obedience to God often comes at a great personal cost. This is reiterated in many ways through the Book, but this is a powerful example. Yet God did use all these circumstances to ultimately position Joseph in a place where he could save his family from starvation. He also had to forgive them for selling him as a slave – a fact that may shock us in today’s “trauma-sensitive” environment.

So in Ol’ Joe’s life, we see that obedience leads from the frying pan to the fire and then into the coals themselves before God’s miraculous delivery is brought about.

Never forget, at our historical moment, the most miraculous has already been done. Yet we still have miles or months of obedience ahead before we get to see the total fulfillment in our eternal reward!

Dang, I didn’t even get out of Genesis, and there are tons of others: Moses and his call to deliver the people from Pharoah – another painstaking and unpopular process. Joshua and the silent “battle” of Jericho. The list goes on and on.

This time through the Word, I’m relishing the overview and remembering that my obedience may not pay out in earthly comfort, convenience, or reward. But in the long run, my choosing again and again to trust God will be worthwhile.

Friend, so will yours. Chronologically speaking, obedience is the only safe bet.

When Job Is My Portion

This past Saturday, I woke to one of Tennessee’s typical grey winter days. After reading my morning portion of the Word, I caved in to my Aussie’s pleading stares and vocalizations. A quick check of the weather app assured me the looming clouds would not spill over for “at least 60 minutes,” nonetheless, I donned my rain gear and set off with the furry victor happily trotting at my side. Since my portion is in Job at present, it seemed appropriate to me to listen to said book while I walked to enhance my morning’s reading, and I decided to backtrack and listen from Job chapter 1.

The weather app lied.

About a half-mile into my walk, a misty drizzle started. It was fairly warmish and the drizzle was light, so I decided to keep going. Besides, my poor pooch had already missed several walks this winter due to my state’s bipolar weather and my own health issues. As I passed the lake, I noted my friend the limpkin still inexplicably hanging out at the water’s edge despite being a good 450-odd miles from the northern edge of his typical range – not to mention last week’s snowpocalypse.

He stared at me as I passed, possibly wondering why the crazy human trudges through the mist and still stops to snap photos of him. Good question. I moved on, listening to Job’s lament and feeling a bit dissatisfied with my choice. But I kept walking.

About halfway through my short route, the drizzle picked up to a light rain. By this time, Eliphaz, Bildad, and Zophar had begun their potshots and part of my mind drifted to my own times of trial. The rain lent a dismal ambience to perfectly complement the audio.

When the light rain began to drift toward downpour, I debated the merits of fighting the rain for control over my phone’s screen to make a call. Instead, I put my head down and determined to finish the last 3/4 mile or so as quickly as possible. Then I saw movement. Through the raindrops coating my glasses, a familiar vehicle drew near.

My husband had noted the increase in damp and come to my rescue. Hallelujah!

The whole experience reminded me of a dark and dismal time in my life. Like Job, I’d lost a lot (though not all). The people I’d called “friend” abandoned me in my hour of need, and I felt myself alone, groping through a cold and misty waste with nowhere to turn. Then out of nowhere, as I trudged ahead in a grim and hopeless determination, my Rescuer appeared.

I found the Word of God – not just the Book but the Redeemer it speaks of: Yeshua Messiah, Jesus the Christ, Immanuel, God-With-Us. My Lord and my God. In my darkest hour, in abject fury and despair, I shouted my unbelief and unbelievably, He came to my rescue anyway.

He took me under the shelter of His wings and slowly began the work of healing my wounded heart, untwining the deeply-rooted sins that infected my soul, and cleaning up the mess I’d made. My journey since then has still had moments of despondency and pain, but I now have a safe and warm destination to look forward to.

Just as my husband picked me up and drove me home, my Lord and Savior is carrying me through the murk of life. And I know that someday, He will bring me Home. This is what I keep in mind when Job’s lot seems to be my portion. Even without the Book, Job himself clung to this hope and kept going.

My friend, so can you.

For I know that my Redeemer lives, and at the last he will stand upon the earth. And after my skin has been thus destroyed, yet in my flesh I shall see God.

(Job 19:25-26)

What If?

Reading through one of my (admittedly many) favorite biblical stories today – the story of Joseph – caused me to reflect on my own selfishness. Too often in my walk with the Lord, I’ve asked the wrong questions, particularly when things don’t go the way I think they ought. But what if instead of placing myself at the center of the story, I accepted all events as part of the unfolding plan of the Faithful God?

Know therefore that the LORD your God is God, the faithful God who keeps covenant and steadfast love with those who love him and keep his commandments, to a thousand generations…

Deuteronomy 7:9

What if I recognized that I am only one of billions of elements incorporated into His composition – a design so intricate and far-reaching, the first stroke was laid ages before my birth; a masterpiece encompassing more details than my mind can fathom spanning the breadth of eternity? What if I simply trusted the Almighty’s sure hand instead of wrapping myself in faithless despair at the first glimpse of a speck of darkness?

In fact, what if all of us who claim Yeshua Messiah (Christ Jesus) as our Lord laid down our limited understanding and trusted in His limitless sovereignty?

Now that would be something indeed.

So Joseph said to his brothers, “Come near to me, please.” And they came near. And he said, “I am your brother, Joseph, whom you sold into Egypt. And now do not be distressed or angry with yourselves because you sold me here, for God sent me before you to preserve life.

Genesis 45:4-5

I’m reminded by Joseph’s words that my story isn’t really mine. The little length of my life is less than a fleck of paint in the Creator’s magnum opus.

I can make myself miserable by questioning events so far beyond my purview, I wouldn’t understand them fully even if the Eternal One let me in on the wheres, whys, and hows. Or I can be at peace, resting in the goodness of the One who does know, and humbly performing the tasks, no matter how trivial, He gives me to do each day.

Keeping my eyes on my troubles and inviting doubt and misery, or fixing my eyes on the Lord and embracing trust and peace.

It’s not a difficult choice when broken down into the simplest elements.

Diagnosis

“That’s not a diagnosis; it’s why I’m here.”

Frustration hardened my voice, drawing a sigh from my doctor. She replied, “We’ve literally tested you for everything, and it IS a diagnosis. There may not be a blood test yet but there are diagnostic criteria, and you do have the hallmark symptom of post exertional malaise. Trust me, this is it. Do your research.”

So much for the hope of something treatable.

A diagnosis of ME/CFS is kind of like being told you have a virus, only the symptoms won’t improve in a couple of weeks. No treatment, no definitive disease course, no cure. Yet this obstacle felt minor compared to the despair I felt in my former life as an atheist.

In those days, I could see the world was a mess. Everywhere I looked, I saw a profound brokenness; a sickness for which I could find neither explanation nor cure. Even mirrors reflected the malady so I avoided them when possible. On my own, single and careless if not quite carefree, I could stomach the ugliness. I even participated; a hopeless if-you-can’t-beat-’em-join-’em mentality.

But on the day I stared down at twin pink lines on a pregnancy test, the weight of the world’s horrors squeezed the air from my lungs.

Could I bring a child into this dismal world where evil lurked in broad daylight; where wars and kidnappings and murders were so commonplace that the news needed something splashier to capture the attention of a calloused public? Was it even moral to consider ushering an innocent life into such depravity?

These were the questions that drove me to my search for truth, and in doing so, I discovered there is not only a definitive diagnosis for the world’s disease, there is also a cure.

Imagine my relief.

The world’s diagnosis is simple: sin.

It’s hard to believe so much atrocity and sorrow can be encompassed by three letters of the English language, and yet it’s true. We live in an age that discounts sin as old-fashioned while failing to grasp the far-reaching devastation it brings.

Instead of measuring right and wrong against a set standard, we prefer to measure our choices against other rights and wrongs. “Sure, I’ve told a lie or two, but at least I’m not a murderer.”

We compare ourselves to Hitler or Charles Manson and feel confident that we aren’t that bad. But we are. The infection is so great, we don’t even see how it’s warped our very understanding.

Instead of being measurable against itself, sin is far more like cancer. One tiny cancer cell multiplies rapidly until the entire organism’s resources are taxed. Cancer, untreated, leads to death. Sin is no different but it is more complicated. Cancer affects only the organism it lives within; sin affects everything and everyone.

Like ripples a water droplet causes in a body of water, sin’s malignancy spreads out and disrupts other people and other elements of this world. To trace the influence of the myriad sins even of a single human being would be tantamount to documenting the impact and reverberation of every single ripple caused by each drop of rain in a hurricane.

However, the world and its inhabitants are not affected by a single person’s sin but by the collective sins of all people of all times. Only an all-powerful, all-knowing Being could sort it all out. And indeed, that’s exactly what happened.

God, the Creator who spoke the world and all its complexity into existence, understands the hopeless mangling of His creation caused by sin. He who created humanity that we might share His love also allowed us – as love must – to choose for ourselves whether or not we will share in it. And when each and every one of us rejected His love for the fleeting pleasure of deciding for ourselves what is and is not good and right, He saw the mess we made of things – and He had compassion.

As a father shows compassion to his children, so the Lord shows compassion to those who fear Him. For He knows our frame; He remembers that we are dust.

Psalm 103:13-14

To me, this still comes as a shock.

The human response to a creation that defies and destroys would be anger, frustration, annihilation. But God had compassion for us rebels.

His compassion led to the cure for sin – a cure that I’ll be the first to admit sounds unbelievable. He sent His Son to live as human beings were meant to live – in obedience to His created structure – and then to die as a willing sacrifice to pay the price for sin.

For the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Romans 6:23

Though the Son of God and Son of Man may have clothed Himself in death, He didn’t wear it forever. By the mystery of melded God and flesh and the unwarranted compassion of the Creator who became a part of His own creation, He died. Then He left death behind, discarded along with his grave cloth. He not only accepted the penalty for sin, He overcame it.

Death is swallowed up in victory.
O death, where is your victory?
O death, where is your sting?

1 Corinthians 15:55

Now because of Yeshua Messiah, Jesus the Christ, all we who are hopelessly infected with sin can choose to die to sin by putting our desire to be in charge to death. Then, free from the stranglehold of sin, we can also discard death as a useless garment and walk into true and everlasting life.

The journey starts now, and we must each choose our path. Choose wisely. There are only two options: either the path of sin leading only to death, or the Way of Messiah Yeshua by which we put sin to death and are gifted with life and peace- glorious, true and abundant.

There is only one cure for the cancer of the soul, and His name is Yeshua (Jesus). But like all cures, it is up to each person to accept it and apply it.

Cult of Death; Gift of Life

For to set the mind on the flesh is death, but to set the mind on the Spirit is life and peace…
So then, brothers, we are debtors, not to the flesh, to live according to the flesh. For if you live according to the flesh you will die, but if by the Spirit you put to death the deeds of the body, you will live.

Romans 8:6, 12–13 (ESV)

When facing an enemy that has stated it loves death more than others love life, what is the best step forward?

This is not only the question facing Israel in the current war against Hamas and the looming threat of other militant Islamic groups surrounding them, it’s truly the question we all face daily.

The greatest enemy isn’t Islam. It isn’t a group of people with radical ideology, its neither the Left nor the Right or any other human being at all. Our greatest enemy is far more ancient. He craves death and relishes it like fine wine. Lies are his native tongue, and he delights in threading chaos through both warp and weft of human relations. He inhales decay as a sweet savor and exhales ruin. He gloats as the world squabbles and burns.

You are of your father the devil, and your will is to do your father’s desires. He was a murderer from the beginning, and does not stand in the truth, because there is no truth in him. When he lies, he speaks out of his own character, for he is a liar and the father of lies.

John 8:44, ESV

I can’t help but feel great grief for Israel, but I feel an equal sorrow for the people dominated by radical Islam. In their own holy book, it is written that lying is permissible in cases of war, and in some hadith it is stated that there is a continual war against infidels who are enemies of Allah. It’s permissible to lie to convert the world to Islam, and death is the alternative to conversion. The zealous followers who drink this philosophy for breakfast believe they serve God, but if Allah is a god then he is the god of this world.

Again, the devil took him to a very high mountain and showed him all the kingdoms of the world and their glory. And he said to him, “All these I will give you, if you will fall down and worship me.” Then Jesus said to him, “Be gone, Satan! For it is written, ‘You shall worship the Lord your God and him only shall you serve.’

Matthew 4:8–10 (ESV)

If a man dies only to bring death and chaos to others, it is a sad thing for all. This is the mission given to many poor souls who fight so fervently for their own destruction. I shudder to think of what happens when the rewards they believed they would gain turn out to be just another lie.

Yet the call of the Lord Jesus is a call to put to death the “deeds of the body” – all that is unholy and evil within ourselves – hatred, envy, deceit, strife, lust, self-worship. When Bonhoeffer said, “When Christ calls a man, He bids him come and die,” he doesn’t mean we die to bring death to others. It is death to self.

We put to death what is deadly to others and to our own spirits so that we may not only gain life, we can give it as well. Sin is death and always brings a death. Yet for the sake of putting sin to death, many who live for Christ are accused of the very evils they are at war against. This is why:

Yet for your sake we are killed all the day long; we are regarded as sheep to be slaughtered.

Psalm 44:22, Romans 8:6

It’s been a curious irony to feast on Romans 8 against the backdrop of wars and rumors of war. On one hand, my heart grieves for the world as it burns with fury and with physical fire. On the other, I welcome the suffering because I know they :are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed in us” (Romans 8:18) – those of us who are in Christ, that is.

My heart sings with gratitude for the Light of the world who healed my blind eyes, opened my unhearing ears, and unshackled my mind from the lies of the evil one’s domain. It also keens for all souls who do not know the goodness of God or who, doubting His goodness, refuse to obey His good and gentle Way.

But mostly, I rejoice because I am my Beloved’s and He is mine. No matter what happens to my body, I am free; free from the law of sin and death, free from the fear of suffering, and free to live fully for the One who once died and rose again.

Oh how I long for the adherents of the death cults to turn and accept the free gift of life! They could stop conquering mere humanity and become more than conquerors, given over to love, and never separated from the goodness of God again in this world or the one to come. How I long for all people to come to this hope!

No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Romans 8:37-38

Migraine Phase Four | Postdrome

And he said to them, “Why are you afraid, O you of little faith?” Then he rose and rebuked the winds and the sea, and there was a great calm.

Matthew 8:26

If the prodrome is the seething fury of the storm to come and the headache phase is the tempest, the postdrome is the hazy brightness in a summer storm’s wake. Sure, there’s a bit of vegetal wreckage strewn about. There may be dark clouds menacing the horizon and possibly a distant rumble or dim stab of lightning, but the worst is over.

That’s not a bad description of the prodrome. It reminds me of those midsummer Tennessee thunderstorms that rage and leave behind a humidity so thick you can taste it. The prodrome leaves me feeling a sort of pregnant emptiness, as if my mind were full of static and my limbs full of lead. There’s little to no pain, save the occasional aftershocks, but things just aren’t quite working again, either.

It’s not an interesting stage, and there isn’t much to say about it. Before I knew the proper term – and honestly, even to this day – I’d always referred to this as a migraine hangover.

It’s here in the wretched meh-ness of the postdrome that I often find myself marveling at the incredible goodness of a God who would wrap Himself in this mess on purpose, just to rescue a handful of rebels who will see Him, understand the unfathomable depths of His love, and find rest that nothing on earth can provide.

And the men marveled, saying, “What sort of man is this, that even winds and sea obey him?”

Matthew 8:27

Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.

Jesus of Nazareth – Matthew 11:29

Migraine Phase Three | The Attack

It is good for me that I was afflicted, that I might learn your statutes. The law of your mouth is better to me than thousands of gold and silver pieces.

Psalm 119:71-72

There’s not much funny about this phase. However, I can’t say there’s nothing good about it. But first, a couple of details: the attack or headache phase is the most straight-forward. It’s <drum roll> a headache!

But it is not just a headache. A migraine is a very distinct kind of headache, usually (but not always) one-sided with a pulsing, pounding, or throbbing quality. I used to liken the early sensation to a gong being rhythmically and silently struck behind my left eyeball, although that probably only makes sense if you’ve ever been close enough to a gong to feel the vibrations in your teeth – or if you happen to have migraines similar to mine.

Of course, medication helps in varying degrees, but without medication (and sometimes even with it ) there’s a lot that goes on.

Besides head pain, this phase also comes with a complement of varied and sometimes bizarre symptoms. Nausea, vomiting, confusion, fatigue, and sensitivity to light and sound are common for most migraineurs. And when I say nausea, I mean that you feel like you’re going to vomit if you move even an eyelash, you do vomit if you move even an eyelash, and you pray you can vomit in a dark, quiet place or else the pain quadruples (and if your stomach does rebel, the cool tile of the bathroom floor seems a perfectly sensible place to ride out the rest of the storm. After all, any attempt to exit the necessary room would only bring you back).

Aside from the typical complement of migraine headache symptoms, my personal little collection includes facial pain, muscle spasms in my neck or upper back, and a sensation that my heart is pounding along with an ability to hear or feel it pound in my left ear. In addition, my husband always tells me I feel feverish but I never have a fever. There’s also a kind of weird altered consciousness that I couldn’t describe if you asked me to – just a sense of everything being ever-so-slightly off.

I said earlier that the prodromal phase is the longest, but that’s only true when medication works. An unmedicated episodic migraine headache can last anywhere from four to 72 hours.

Then there’s chronic migraine.

For nearly a decade of my life, I had chronic migraine and “status migrainosus,” meaning a migraine that never really went away. You heard that right – a years-long headache that waxed and waned but never disappeared. And yes, it came with all of the above symptoms mixed in with prodromal and postdromal symptoms in a kind of general stew of unwellness; a sort of ouroboros of illness.

It was impossible to sort out, and much more than just a headache. But medication helps, and I literally praise God for triptans and for giving human beings the ability to concoct medications!

But let me circle back to my second statement of this post: there are good things about the headache phase.

It was during a medication-resistant migraine as I lay in a darkish room with my arm draped over my eyes that I first really grasped what the Lord Jesus did for humanity.

The thing is, I rebelled against my Creator, mocked Him, mocked His people, and tried to set myself up as my own little deity. For this, I deserve annihilation. Pain is a mercy, when you think about it, because pain is a signal that there’s something wrong. And if you deserve to be unmade, pain is a slap on the hand. Even after surrendering to the Lord, I fall short of holiness every day. Even my very best deeds are tainted by selfishness. If I may be brutal in my candor, I have become keenly aware of my own thirst for reciprocity or recognition and I would love to be free of it. I am far from selfless.

But the entire earthly life of Jesus exemplified selflessness. He did not deserve pain; He didn’t even deserve to don this moist and malfunctioning mess of meat, bone, nerve, and vessels we call a body.

The One through Whom all things were created didn’t deserve to submit to the humiliation of becoming an infant; of being hungry or thirsty or cold or any of the unpleasantness that comes of being human. And He most certainly did not deserve to have the eternal fellowship with the Father severed by taking on the foulness of my sin – not to mention the sins of the entire world – and endure an excruciating death devised by the twisted mind of His own creation.

Yet He entered into sorrow and anguish to pay the cost of all our sin in order that we could be free from it and once more enter into the Divine Presence by donning the righteousness of Jesus to cover our shame. Because of this, I have found a sweetness in my suffering and a unique fellowship with my Lord in pain.

Because of what He endured for me, I am even able to thank Him for the pain that helped me understand a little bit more. It is good for me that I was afflicted.

Migraine Phase Two | Aura

Have you not known? Have you not heard? The LORD is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He does not faint or grow weary; his understanding is unsearchable. He gives power to the faint, and to him who has no might he increases strength.

Isaiah 40:28-29

Woah! Who changed the settings on gravity?

Were you aware that dizziness can be a part of migraine aura? Roughly a quarter of migraine sufferers, typically called migraineurs, experience aura around 20-60 minutes before the headache begins. Those who do get auras, don’t get them all the time.

And if you wondered if yours truly has an aura, the answer is: sometimes. I might have dizzy spells shortly before the headache starts. Other times, I see wavy lines around everything, kind of like the underwater effects from Aquaman sans dramatic hair flips and tattoos. But the strangest form of aura only occurs when the headache to come is going to be a doozy: my hands shake.

Yeah, it’s a little weird. This happened once in Grand Central Station as I chaperoned a bunch of sophomores on a field trip. They were sitting around a table eating lunch while I struggled to open the migraine rescue meds with shaking hands. They all stared at my fumbling fingers with wide eyes while I muttered, “Just a migraine coming. Nothing to worry about.”

I think my daughter’s nonchalance convinced them more than my words.

Whenever I do experience an aura, at least it’s clear what’s coming. It isn’t enjoyable, but it IS a reminder of my dependence on God. I may become dizzy and faint, but He never does. My body malfunctions; He does not. And even when I know that pain lies around the corner, He is the One who gives me the strength to endure and the peace to trust Him through it.

Anyway, when the aura occurs, it’s short – and so is this post.

Migraine Phase One | Prodrome

But now thus says the LORD, he who created you, O Jacob, he who formed you, O Israel: “Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you.

Isaiah 43:1-2

You know those cartoon characters walking around with their own personal rainclouds? I imagine a similar scenario for myself during the prodromal phase of migraine—except in place of a cute little raincloud, a Category 5 hurricane dogs my steps, turning innocent actions like removing eggs from the fridge into preternatural disasters. That’s my typical presentation. Less often, I feel good during the prodrome. Like really, really good. Skipping-around-singing, “On Top of the World” like-a-lunatic good. Which isn’t so bad until the moment I realize what’s coming…

My personal hurricanes typically last for around 12-48 hours, though rarely they hang on for thee full days. Thankfully those times are cut short or nothing breakable in my home would survive. This is usually the longest phase of migraine for me, and this will be the longest of the migraine posts in honor of June as Migraine Awareness Month. Bear with me. 😉

Other than epic klutziness and breakdown of anything resembling hand-eye coordination during the prodrome, I also enjoy a failure to recognize spatial relationships. For example, I might take a drink and place my water bottle almost – but not quite – on my desk.

Aphasia often drops in during the prodrome, too, along with difficulty concentrating. Words and thoughts get twisted up between brain and tongue, or they careen around my skull like insane and highly caffeinated squirrels who refuse to work together, or they get lost entirely.

Though frustrating, aphasia is excellent at keeping my pride in check. In fact, sometimes my pride is so embarrassed by the rhetorical ruin that it moves out for a time and pretends not to know me when we bump into one another in the market.

Aphasia in Living Color

There are also less tangible symptoms: a sense of being utterly despised and rejected by everyone, including God, or an irrational desire to commit acts of murder most foul on inanimate objects. Luckily, my brain has already peaced-out by this time and I can neither find an appropriate tool for the job nor remember what the job was – or even what a tool is, for that matter.

Then there’s the mysterious (to me) quality of voice my husband detects as easily as one might detect a smallish pachyderm enjoying a snack in one’s kitchen; an elephant entirely undetectable to yours truly. He describes this vocal quality as sounding panicky. At which point, I mentally describe him with a few choice words, incensed at his insensitivity.

Alas, that too is a prodromal symptom.

This is a bare sampling from the grab bag of migraine prodrome symptoms, but the list can extend into some pretty strange realms. Pounding heart, unslakable thirst, feeling warm to the touch – you get the picture.

Despite being mostly painless, I dislike the prodrome most because it is the phase where I find it hardest to cling to God. But praise Him! By His grace, these are the times I realize (in retrospect) HE is clinging to me.

The only saving grace of prodrome is that in the thick of this howling and chaotic neurological cyclone, I have most often heard His still, small voice. He does not speak to me every time, but in the season when my migraines were more regular the US Mail, I heard His voice more often as well.

And what a wonder to know – really know – that the One who stilled the storm on Lake Tiberias so many years ago is the same One who holds me in the midst of a storm that causes me to lose my grip on everything.

And he awoke and rebuked the wind and said to the sea, “Peace! Be still!” And the wind ceased, and there was a great calm. He said to them, “Why are you so afraid? Have you still no faith?”

Mark 4:39-40

If you’ve made it this far, I hope you’ve learned and maybe had a laugh. But mostly, I pray that whether you suffer from migraine or not, you will come to know and love my Lord. He knows and love you already. If you belong to Him, nothing can take you from His hand, no matter how strong the storm or deep the darkness. Trust me on this.

My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they will never perish, and no one will snatch them out of my hand. My Father, who has given them to me, is greater than all, and no one is able to snatch them out of the Father’s hand.

John 10:27-29